Lazy Days II
by SLSheartsRKO
Summary: The idea was for a simple intervention to see what was going on with Adam and his inability to choose between Jason and Chris. How was John supposed to know that things were going to take such a dramatic turn for the worst, showing that maybe Adam's flare for the dramatics might actually be a cry for help? The day ends on a sour note, that's for sure - thanks, Adam.


John had no idea what he found entertaining the most – Randy pacing back in forth in front of Adam, or Adam pressed back against the cushions of the black leather couch, acting as though he wanted nothing more than to turn invisible, to evade the piercing gaze of Randy's icy, pale blue eyes. He shrugged his shoulders and stifled a smirk every time Adam turned to him, feeling only slightly guilty that he wasn't coming to his rescue. But oh, well – Adam should have known that the second Randy found out what happened it was only going to be a matter of time before he interjected and made to set things straight. Despite the fact that Randy had always been persistent about keeping out of drama, sometimes the man's patience reached the maximum capacity and then he couldn't help himself from jumping in and voicing his opinions.

And that was where they were at now.

"Shall I heat up some frozen pizzas?" John asked, pushing himself away from the wall that he was leaning against. There was no reason for him to stand there and inwardly laugh at Adam's suffering. Not only that, but Randy didn't need any help delegating the situation. He was quite fine on his own.

Glancing over, Randy nodded his head at John's proposal. "Make sure you set the timer _after_ you put them into the oven. God knows what happened last time I left you in charge of that."

"Hey, shut the fuck up. I can cook."

"Of course, babe," Randy smiled condescendingly, "I know you can."

"Fuck off."

His parting gift was the sight of Randy flipping him off before turning his attention back to Adam – Adam who still seemed as though he was trying to blend into the black leather cushions of the couch. Moving into the kitchen, John was thankful that Randy's voice could carry, because even though there was no need for him to hover around, he sure as hell wanted to listen in on the bashing that was Randy's speciality. Moving towards the large freezer, John pulled the stainless steel doors open and pulled out two frozen pizzas. He dropped them on the counter and, as he was pulling out a knife to slice into the plastic that encompassed the pizzas, the bashing began.

"So tell me what's going on again, because John tends to overdo the explanations."

At the sound of that, John paused, an affronted look crossing his face, because he _knew_ that Randy couldn't possibly be serious. He was just about ready to walk around the counter and say just that, but he stopped himself. What was the point? Of course, Randy would say something like that. He knew that that wasn't true. Hell, Adam probably did, too, but despite how stupid his actions had been lately, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"I, uh … Well, I'm torn between Jason and Chris." John heard Adam say, his voice a combination of anxiousness and uncertainty. "I really like hanging out and being with Jason, but at the same time … whenever we're together, Chris is the only thing that's on my mind, so … hence the problem."

Slicing into the plastic, John waited patiently for the response. He was curious as to what Randy would say. He knew what he had said to John's face about hearing what Adam had been up to, but John didn't know if Randy would say it to Adam's face or if he would try to lighten the severity of his situation. Then again, John mused as he placed the two pizzas onto two separate pizza-trays, he was talking about Randy. And since when had Randy ever lightened the blow when confronting someone about whatever the hell it was that he was getting involved in. It was Randy's gift and curse. After pre-heating the oven, he moved back to the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping the cap, and taking a swig.

"Hell of a problem to have, but let's think of it like this, shall we? What happens when Jason finds out? Because it's only a matter of time before he does. It won't take much, to be honest. And I know that sounds really shitty of me, but let's face the facts: it's plain to everyone who looks at you whenever you're in the vicinity of Chris Jericho that you're pining over him. So maybe Jason's giving you the benefit of the doubt, pushing it to the back of his mind, because he cares about you." There was a pause, John turning to prop his elbows against the counter, directing his attention towards the hallway. "It will get to the point where he starts realising how serious you are about Chris. Congratulations, Adam, you've broken the heart of the Jason Reso in this mental scenario."

John snorted and took another swig of his beer. Placing it back on the counter, he set the timer, put the pizzas in the oven, and made his way back into the living room. The scene hadn't changed all that much – Randy was still standing in front of the couch with his taut arms crossed over his chest, staring down at Adam who was slouched against the leather cushions, wishing for the world that he was anywhere else.

"It's really not that hard of a decision, man." Randy said, unfolding his arms. "Either you continue to play this game –"

"– It's not a game –"

"– or you tell Jason that you aren't ready to be in a relationship, because it's quite obvious that you sure as hell aren't – not with your feelings towards Chris still so strong."

"Yeah …" Adam sighed, his voice somewhat bland, emotionless. It caused Randy to narrow his eyes, and John honestly didn't know if it was because he was concentrating, trying to figure out exactly what that tone meant, or if he was going to snap at Adam for not saying anything meaningful.

Just to be safe, John walked further into the room and sat down on the other side of the couch, throwing his arm over the back. "Where is your head at, man? What are you thinking?"

"I don't know." He pursed his lips tightly again to the point where they were two thin lines. Adam glanced up at John before casting his eyes back to his hands, which were folded in his lap, fingers picking at the nail. "It's a fucked up situation that I put myself into. I mean, I like spending time with Jason. I like how I feel when I'm around him. But then I think of Chris, and I feel as though I'm betraying him. And then everything goes downhill from there."

John opened his mouth to say something – something to definitely get rid of the despondent look on Adam's face, because God, it was tragic – but Randy beat him to it. "You are aware that it's okay to be friends with someone. You don't have to fuck them to be able to spend time with them?"

Alarm bells started blaring in John's head. He loved Randy. He would do anything for him. But sometimes, the man didn't understand when to be tactful. Pain flashed across Adam's eyes, causing his brows to scrunch up. His eyes went downcast as a frown adorned his face. Tricking him over was probably a horrible plan of his, stupidly thinking that a little hard love would do him some good. But it was plainly obvious that that was not the case. That beyond jokes and that patent smirk on his, Adam was really suffering. And John fucking threw him to Randy to butcher into shape. Yeah, that was definitely not his finest moment.

"Hey, Randy," John intervened, leaning forward and putting his hand on Randy's hip, gaining his attention, "can you check the pizza?"

"Why? You just put it in ten minutes ago?" Of course, he wasn't getting his subtle hint of _get the fuck out._

"I can't remember if I even put it in the oven."

"John –"

"Thanks!" John dropped his hand and turned his body, facing Adam more so than Randy. He had no idea how Randy would re-act. The plan would either fail and Randy would smack the shit out of him. Or it would actually succeed and he'd leave. A heaping ten seconds passed – it felt way, way longer to John – before Randy mumbled an affirmation and padded off towards the kitchen. Inhaling deeply, John focussed his attention on Adam. "I'm sorry about that, man."

"Don't worry about it." Adam said gloomily.

"Seriously, I had no idea he would drop to his knees and start throwing out ball-shots." John shook his head.

"I deserve it. I am stringing Jason along," Adam looked up at John, "putting his feelings and emotions into jeopardy, because Randy's right. This will all end in disaster."

"It doesn't have to, man. You know that. You just have to figure out what you want to do."

"I don't know what to do, though!" Sighing in frustration, John watched with a sympathetic look as Adam aggressively ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands. He could see the tension in his shoulders and the bundle of nerves that stood taut in his neck. He was really stressing out about what to do about Jason and Chris, and – once again – he felt foolish for his careless thinking.

"Do you think that maybe you're making more of this than what it already is?" John couldn't help but ask after a moment. It was a logical question. As much as he cared for his friend, John couldn't help but think that Adam had always had a flare for the dramatics. That was probably why he and Randy got along so well, had developed a friendship years ago. It was a logical question for John to ask. Maybe he was simply over-analysing the situation. "I mean, you said yourself, you're constantly thinking about Chris. So when you're with him –"

"It won't work."

John furrowed his brow. "What?"

"What you're thinking right now, it won't work."

"Why?"

Leaning back against the black leather cushions, Adam heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes, looking in that moment older than John had ever seen him look before. There were dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't noticed before, lines on his face that he'd never seen before. He looked slightly paler and his hair looked ragged and worn. He looked ill, like the toll of worrying was sucking the energy from his very being. The alarm bells started ringing even louder in John's ears, had him sitting up straighter and moving a bit closer. His hand came up and rested on Adam's shoulder, gently squeezing, minutely afraid that he would hurt him if he squeezed too hard. It was a thought that didn't sit well in the pit of his stomach.

"Adam," John started slowly, his voice low and deep, full of such concern, "I knew this was bothering you, but I had no idea that it was causing you this much …" This much what? Adam looked as though he was fighting an inward battle and losing horribly. John swallowed hard, a sudden rush of protectiveness coursing through him. "Tell me what to do."

He merely shook his head, snorting bitterly. "You said it yourself." Adam said. "I'm stringing them both along. I'm fucking Reso, but I'm thinking about Jericho. And what makes the whole thing worse is that Jericho doesn't see me the way Reso sees me." Adam cleared his throat and looked away, looking tired and drained. John stared at him in worry, wishing in that moment for Randy to get the hell in here, because he had no idea what to do, but knowing that he needed his support, needed _him_.

"So …?" John hated the way the word came out of his mouth. It was formed like a question, but the tone of his voice was soft and pitiful, as though he was scared to ask the question, as though he wasn't sure if he should even ask it. He shouldn't be like that, though. Not when Adam needed him to be strong for him.

"So," Adam sighed and looked back at John, building himself up as though he was gaining the courage he needed to say what it was he needed to say, "I think I need to let them both go."

That ... that was certainly not what John expected to hear from Adam. He opened his mouth to say something, but immediately snapped it shut when he realised he had no idea what to say. The pattern repeated several times, his mouth opening and closing, his cerulean eyes blinking with shock as Adam started blankly, almost sadly at him. And to make matters worse, Adam stood up to leave. And John was just sitting there, his mind running a complete blank. His heart was beating furious against his rib-cage, his chest rising and falling with quick succession, but Adam – Adam looked calm, like what he had decided soothed the turmoil inside of him. But it was wrong. It was all, all wrong. And John felt as though he was moments away from exploding. A jumble of words was building inside of his chest, rising up this throat, each word fighting to get to the top, fighting to be thrown out first, but the second they got to the tip of his tongue … nothing.

"Thank you for listening to me and trying to help me through this." Adam was saying, and John had to blink a few times to focus, to pay attention to what he was saying. What was happening right now … it just wasn't right. This wasn't the Adam he knew. It wasn't. "You're a good friend, John."

"Adam –" Somehow the word came out, broken and hoarse, something that John couldn't even recognise to be his own voice. But it was all that he could voice out, all that he could say. Like before, it all died the second it got to the tip of his tongue.

"It's okay." Adam said, giving John a small smile, one that was meant to comfort. Again, it was all wrong. It was supposed to be the other way around. John's hands gripped the black leather cushions, squeezing until he felt the material crease beneath his fingertips.

"You know you have a choice here, Adam." It was the voice of a fucking angel, one that had John almost bursting with what, he didn't know. Tears, laughter, a scream, some form of energy. All he could manage, though, was to snap his head in the opposite direction. Randy was leaning against the wall, his shoulder propped against the doorframe, as though he had been standing there just long enough to know what Adam had decided. "Talk to Jason. Tell him that you don't want to have sex anymore. Tell him that you just want to be his friend. As for Jericho, you're almost there with him. Give it time and it might grow to be something more. Not all relationships happen. They take time and a lot of care and effort. You don't have to kill yourself over it. No relationship is worth that."

Adam took an intake of breath and seemed to sway on his feet. Every instinct told John to get up and be at his friend's side, but his muscles were frozen. And Randy wasn't even fucking moving. As happy as he was having him there, having him say something that wasn't tactless and blunt, a part of John was screaming at Randy to go to him, to be there, to put an arm around him, so he knew that he wasn't alone, that they were there for him. But Randy didn't move. His expression was open and honest, his pale, icy eye reflecting so much, it almost hurt to stare at for too long –

John's attention snapped back to Adam when he blew out slowly, his eyes falling shut. "I think … I think I'm doing this for me." His voice was soft and low, so quiet that John barely heard him. But he did and it had a swell of emotion choke him. "I think I need to be alone for a little while, figure out what I want."

"You know where to find us if you need anything." Randy said, causing Adam to nod his head. He turned and walked towards the door and John finally – _finally_ – found it in him to jump to his foot, but it was too late. Adam slipped out of the door and closed it quietly. He was gone. "John –"

"Why in the hell did you do that?" John demanded, his heart slamming painfully in his chest. His head was spinning and his hands were shaking where they rested tense at his sides. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing for him to do, lashing out at Randy when all he was trying to do was help, especially when he _wanted_ him to help, but John couldn't help himself. He couldn't believe what was going on, couldn't believe what was happening. What he hadn't thought of as that important was tearing Adam up from the inside out and he realised it too late. "We have to go talk to him. We have to –"

"– Do nothing."

John's hands clenched tightly, his nails digging crescent shapes into his palms. "We are not going to stand here and do nothing while he suffers alone! What the hell kind of friend are you?"

Huffing out an incredulous breath, he turned around and walked back into the kitchen. Fuelled by anger and despair and a need to do something, John stormed after him, watching as Randy grabbed a hand-towel and opened the oven, pulling the frozen pizzas out. The smell was delicious and the sight even more so. But melted cheese and pepperoni wasn't enough to dismiss what had happened, and it annoyed John to no end that he was acting so domestic when Adam _fucking left after telling them what he did_. After the pizzas were laid out on the stove, Randy tossed the hand-towel onto the counter, turned off the oven, and made his way to the island. Planting his hands on the granite, Randy looked tall and imposing, intimidating with how bright his icy, pale blue eyes stood out, how sharp his tattoos rose up against his tanned skin. But John wasn't about to back down.

"We can't tell him how to live his life, John. That's not something we can do. He's an adult who is responsible for his own actions."

"Don't give me that!" John snapped, slamming his fist down on the counter. For his credit, Randy didn't even flinch. "You didn't even try to stop him –"

"What would you have me say? The guy he's fucking; he doesn't care about – not in the way _he_ wants. The guy he's pining over thinks of him as a friend and nothing more. Before his little intervention, it was break everything off with Reso and do something incredibly stupid with Jericho, effectively destroying his relationship with the both of them. What we did here, it got him thinking. You know how Adam is. You know how impulsive he is. And while that's not necessarily a bad thing, sometimes he can be a danger to himself. You know that, John. So regardless if you're pissed or not … you're not angry with me or with the fact that you couldn't change his mind. You're angry that sometimes, there can't always be a happy ending, and that hurts you, because Adam is your friend and you don't want to see him hurt. But neither do I."

He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream or cry or go around the house breaking things, but he did none of those things. Instead, he sunk down into the seat at the large kitchen-island, not once taking his eyes off of Randy. His words were … well, they were probably right on the mark. In all honesty, John didn't even know anymore. He was tired and his heart hurt for his friend, but there was probably truth in Randy's words. Maybe he was right. And maybe Adam was right when he said he needed to be alone, when he said he needed to distance himself from the situation and figure out what he wanted to do. What that even meant or what he was going to do, John had yet to know, but it wasn't up to him to decide.

"Fucking sucks." He finally said. Only then did he notice how tense Randy was. A wave of guilt washed over John in that moment, because he realised that Randy was waiting for John to start yelling at him, was waiting for John to take his anger out on him. Immediately, he leaned over the counter, reaching for Randy's hand, feeling such relief when Randy instantly clasped their hands together. "I'm sorry, Rand. I didn't mean to yell at you like that."

Leaning down, Randy pressed a kiss to John's knuckles. "Don't worry about it. The whole situation sucks a whole lot of asses, but there isn't anything we can do about it except be there for him when he needs us. He's a crazy fuck, but he isn't stupid. He'll figure it out."

Nodding his head, John couldn't help but hope it happened sooner rather than later.


End file.
